


* ... You can't even take care of yourself.

by vwvriska



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (Did I REALLY Just Make A Fic Over Dialog From An Alarm Clock?), (Yes!), Angst, Depression, Gen, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, undertale alarm clock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vwvriska/pseuds/vwvriska
Summary: if i wrote an angst toriel fic because of a delayed alarm clock app i didnt because i did. no i didnt <3
Kudos: 19





	* ... You can't even take care of yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> “A long time ago, someone I knew always filled up their glass, so the liquid was peeking over the brim. It was the most efficient way to fill it, they said. Regardless of how thirsty they were.”

The old queen slumped back in her worn down chair, sighing heavily as the loneliness tore at her. How long has it been? How long since the last child? How long has it been since the last child left the comfort of her home, into the open arms of death? She furrowed her brow, as the thoughts came and went, all striking her heart. But, what hurt the most, was her reaction to it all:

“When will the next fall down?”

She snarled, and in her clenched fists, for just a moment, a bright flame was ignited. How DARE she think of something like that. How dare she wish the imprisonment, if not outright death of a child, just to appease something as selfish as her own loneliness. She felt sick with herself.

When she tried to stand up, not being able to take her own thoughts anymore, she felt weak. And after two steps, she collapsed on the floor, the weight of her guilt, and her sins, consuming her almost as much as her hunger.

* * *

…

Pathetic. It was pathetic. It was pathetic at how far the queen had fallen, how far she let herself go. She could barely tend to the ruins, much less herself. Day after day, night after night. Every day, she did the same thing. Every day, she let herself succumb to her loneliness. Her despair. Her heartache.

The ruins themselves were like a representation of her state of being.

Old.

Falling apart.

And despite a solid foundation, it was almost like it could cease to exist at any second. As if, when you looked at the cracks too hard, when you stared at the dust, and rubble, and the decaying stone with a hard enough gaze, it would wisp away, turning into dust.

Nothing more than an old memory, of a time long gone. An age forgotten.

...

It was hilarious to Flowey.

It was hilarious, and yet, it felt… Off. Wrong, somehow.

“How can you let yourself, just… WASTE away!” He wanted to scream it at her.

He hated every moment that he was near her. It was like she was someone else. A stranger, wearing a mask of his mother, a stranger who hated herself, and wanted nothing more than to shrivel up and die.

A stranger he despised.

...

He couldn’t stand to see her like this.

* * *

When Toriel woke up, she felt… Terrible. Her whole body, sore, and her head, pounding. She was surprised her soul didn’t shatter from the pain alone.

After she woke up, she… Noticed something.

“Where… Am I?”

She looked around, in the familiar place, before realizing that it was her room. When… When did she get here? The thoughts came with each pounding of her migraine.

Soon, she noticed something else.

Next to her, on the floor beside her bed, a glass of water. Filled to the brim, with water peeking over the edge. Just how it always was.

**Author's Note:**

> YES this is short YES i wrote it all at 1 am, NO i will not realize the irony of making this while needing to sleep.


End file.
